


Above All Else - A Warframe AU Fanfiction

by orokinmade



Series: Above All Else - A Warframe AU Fanfiction [1]
Category: Warframe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Science Fiction, Video & Computer Games
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-26 23:06:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14412462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orokinmade/pseuds/orokinmade
Summary: Before the Orokin Empire collapse, before the Tenno or the Sentients, a young Corpus girl sneaks away and encounters the Orokin Mercenaries. She soon bonds with them as her second family, becoming a part of something much greater than herself.MASSIVE Cephalon Fragment spoilers.Written as a collaborative effort by Cephalon Buggy and Cephalon Des.Translations in footnotes.





	Above All Else - A Warframe AU Fanfiction

**Author's Note:**

> "Welcome to the first Chapter of our first uncovered Arcane Codice! We hope you enjoy!" - Cephalon Buggy

_ “They called us mercenaries... but for us, profit was a consequence, not a goal. We were warriors above all else. It was the bond, the sisters and brothers, the rituals we valued most. It was belonging.” - Ordan Karris, Cephalon Fragment  _ _ [21] “Corpus”. _

* * *

 

**Chapter One**

 

All was silent and calm in the shadow of the Orokin tower. The gilded structure, built to house the most noble and beautiful inhabitants of the Origin System and those who served them, may have been believed deserted upon sight. No ships entered or exited the docking bays, and not a soul stirred to disturb the thick of the night.   
  
Not a soul, save for one.

A lone, dim light shone in a single ornate window near the ground, on the base floor. The inhabitant of the room was being very careful not to make any unnecessary noise. It was a scrawny girl, no older than twelve, tiptoeing around the confines of her temporary bedroom within the tower. Though she was dressed in Orokin sleepwear, a set of pristine white trousers and a shirt with golden threaded edges, she was no Orokin. True, her face had an underlying greyish tint to it, and her skin was light and unblemished enough to be mistaken for that of a porcelain doll. But this young girl was a member of the Corpus class of society, comprised of merchants, businessmen, and - as was the case with her own family - scientists. Her parents were of relatively high status within their class, frequently serving Orokin clients and often welcomed as guests within their palatial towers. Much to her distaste.

The girl, Ophelia, scowled to herself as she remembered the arguments she had had with her parents mere hours ago. They had insisted they knew what was best for her. And what they thought was best for her was entering an advanced scientific training program to someday become an Archimedean, in direct service to the Orokin, above even her own parents.

Of course, they had waited to inform her of this until after they had submitted her records and application for consideration. And, of course, Ophelia had been anything but happy to hear it.

The girl didn’t want her parents’ life. The very thought bored her beyond belief. Bowing and scraping and doing tedious little errands for whatever Golden Lord demanded their services. Never seeing more of the System than her duties permitted her to see. True, she was good at science and engineering, extraordinarily so. It ran in her blood. But she didn’t want to be good at it. And she was going to do everything she could to fight against the destiny her parents had set for her.

Her parents had refused to even ask to withdraw her application; they insisted the process, once started, could not be stopped. And their attitudes made it clear they didn’t want it to stop. The more Ophelia had protested, the more they had asserted that, like it or not, this was what was best for her, and she was going to do it. Despite how loudly the child had voiced her opinions on the Orokin, the Archimedeans, and where exactly they could go, her parents were having none of it. And - no doubt as punishment for her outbursts of foul language - she had been sent to bed early.

Just because she was in bed didn’t mean she was asleep, however. The girl who was now pulling on a silken robe that matched her clothing had simply waited. She had laid awake in bed, stewing, fuming, and contemplating her next move. She would show them.

In the end, her rebellious mind had hastily concocted a scheme. If she couldn’t resolve her issues with protests and arguments, she would get away from her woes in a more literal sense. Now, in the dead of night, she pulled on a pair of slippers and crept towards her bedroom window. That would be her escape route.

A silhouette appeared in the window as Ophelia quietly opened it, peeking out at her surroundings. Raven hair, mussed up with bedhead and cut to chin length, framed her pale face as wide indigo blue eyes gazed over the landscape and town around the tower. If she was going to do this, she had to make sure she wasn’t followed. The non-Orokin hangars were rather far, and she needed to get to them undetected if she wanted to stow away on an outbound ship.

No one in sight. Good. She hopped up to sit on the windowsill, and began to swing her legs over, climbing to reach the outside as quietly as she could. As she dropped lightly down into the dirt, kicking up a little puff, Ophelia grinned to herself. Here she was, running away, parents and Orokin be damned. The girl began to creep around the base of the tower, trying to reach the more outlying buildings without attracting attention.

She ran over the details in her mind as she went - get to the hangars, find a ship, hide in the cargo bay. Then pray to the stars she wasn’t caught and shipped back immediately. Honestly, she didn’t care exactly where she was going. Phobos, Jupiter, Pluto - anywhere there was a Corpus outpost where she could make herself comfortable. Ophelia hadn’t really thought very far ahead beyond the actual escape, anyway. She wanted out, and she was getting out, right here, right now.

It seemed like a decent enough plan - until she heard shuffling and voices from the direction she had come.

“Shit.” The girl swore under her breath, picking up the pace as she trotted away from the immediate area, weaving through the alleys and roadways between warehouses and closed merchant buildings. It only just now occurred to her that leaving a light on and the window open had probably been a fatal error. No doubt either her mother or father had come to check on her and found her missing. Now she was being trailed.

She couldn't make it to the hangars; they were too far away, by the sound of the group some distance behind her. They hadn’t seen her yet, or else there would be much more emphatic shouting. But she needed to hide, and soon. If she was seen, this whole scheme would be ruined, and she wouldn't get another chance to escape.

Her small size and swift feet enabled her to gain a little more ground, though not enough to save her. Those wide eyes were now scanning the buildings as she passed them, trying to discern where she might find shelter. Reactor silos, maintenance sheds, quarters for those less fortunate than her family. It was among those quarters she found what she considered a perfect choice: the barracks of the Orokin mercenaries.

Still, instead of dashing in immediately, the girl hesitated. All children of her status were taught to fear and avoid those of the mercenary class. You did not speak to them, nor did you approach their barracks, training grounds, or other facilities. Their reputation guaranteed no high ranking Corpus in their right mind would set foot anywhere near this place. The people who lived in there were brutal, ruthless killers, who would chew up and spit out a little Corpus girl like her. So the stories went. But, at this time of night, surely they were asleep, and she could hide in peace… right?   


As the group grew closer again, she made her decision. It was worth the risk. Ophelia slipped into the midst of the barracks, looking desperately around for somewhere to hide.

It was true— most of them  _ were _ asleep, save for one. 

Though his eyes were closed, the mercenary did not sleep. He laid, hands behind his head, brows furrowed as he brooded over the brutalities of the day. One did not simply  **_join_ ** the Mercenary class. Born into it, your destiny was chosen for you from the moment you were conceived. For this man, fate seemed to have wished to prove itself cruel, as the blood of the innocents he had slaughtered in the name of the Golden Lords weighed heavy on his conscience. Sleep did not come easily.    
  
Ever vigilant in his insomnia, the man perked immediately at the sound. Footsteps on the floor of the barracks, quick. He was upright in an instant, his hand finding the weapon propped against the side of his bunk. A single Boltace, missing it’s mate, well worn and worthy of it’s status.    
  
Following the sound, his senses trained to track and to find, it was not hard to come upon the stowaway. At the sight of the figure, the mercenary held forth his weapon, brows knit tightly as he readied himself to interrogate. Ophelia didn't even see him at first, so busy was she looking for shelter from the search party. Inside the barracks, she had even let out a sigh of relief - until she had looked up and found herself face to face with the mercenary.   
  
Ordan Karris stood, his heavily scarred features taking on a new look of surprise, and then confusion. A young girl? In Orokin garb, no less. Here he was, in ragged clothing, a hooded cloak. The fabric mask he wore over his mouth and nose hung around his neck, it’s matching patch secured over his missing right eye. Small blue lights dotted it like stars. Quite a sight for such a young girl, used to seeing the beauty of the Orokin Masters. He was large, looming. Brown wisps of hair hung in his sight as he looked down at the intruder.

Ophelia's heart nearly stopped. Her eyes opened wide, and she tried to back a step away. Though the dark obscured some of his features, she didn't need more light to see the size of the man, the patch over his missing eye - or the blade in his hand.

“...  _ What are you doing here? _ ” He asked in the Orokin tongue, assuming the young child was of Orokin descent. The tip of his blade graced the girl’s chin, tilting her head up to look into his piercing green eyes,    
  
“ _ Have you not learned of this place? _ ”   
  
This was more than she had bargained for, and she wanted to turn and run. But him raising the blade stopped her in her tracks. Her mouth was dry, and her whole body trembled. Was she going to die here? He could kill her easily. If he wanted to, he could snap her like a  _ twig _ , as small and thin as she was. Oh stars, she was doomed...   
  
Ophelia swallowed her fear just long enough to force out a few words. " _ Kpeaye - Kpeaye po top _ -" Corpus. Spoken Corpus. She had resorted to her faction's tongue in her panic, and had to take a minute to answer him in the proper Orokin tongue.   
  
"Please don't kill me."

Not an Orokin. A  _ Corpus _ . Ordan did not often associate with the class, though he was familiar with them. He thought the young one would have sported the usual black tattoos, though he supposed the members did not receive them until they were much older. Perhaps like some sort of rite of passage. This, he could understand. 

The man did not waver, staring the girl down with a gaze that could make anyone cower under it. His presence was like a vice, gripping and impossible to ignore. Slowly, deliberately, that green eye sliced up and down the young Corpus, as if assessing her. She posed no threat. 

That gaze did make her want to cower, but she stood as tall as she could. She was held in place partly by the singular Boltace, and partly by sheer determination not to break their eye contact. Her indigo eyes were locked directly onto his green one, silently pleading for mercy.

The Boltace lowered to the warrior’s side, and he straightened his back. His gaze held firm.   
  
“So, you are Corpus?” He asked, his tone flat, “You do not belong here, child.”   
  
She took a shaky breath when the blade lowered, and though she swayed slightly, she did not collapse. Ordan saw the girl’s stance deflate slightly as he moved his weapon away. He was aware of the impression he had on people, and he intended for it to stay that way. He had worked hard for his title. Something would be wrong if people were  _ not _ afraid of him upon meeting him. 

"I - yes, I am. I-I was just - I didn't think anyone would be awake," she scrambled to explain, doing her best to speak well in the Orokin tongue. She wasn't quite as naturally fluent as she was in Corpus, but her parents' line of work had made it necessary for her to learn to speak it well. "I know I shouldn't be here, but..."

Her head snapped around, as she heard distant voices calling for her. They were starting to reach the outer buildings. And one of those sounded like her father. She had minutes at best.   
  
It was a risky proposition, but she turned back to the man to plea further. "They can't find me. I don't want to be found. Please, I need to hide here somewhere."

The man’s attention, too, was drawn away from the girl at the sound of the voices. He frowned, turning his head towards them. Who were they? Why were they looking for her? What had she done? 

He knew very well that what he was about to do could get him into worlds of trouble, but he did so without hesitation. Reaching out, Ordan grabbed the girl’s arm and lead her back over towards his bunk. He pushed her head down, forcing her to crawl underneath.  
  
“Stay there,” he hissed, “ _Ypay pkete._ ”   
  
Ophelia scrambled under the bunk without argument, laying flat against the floor on her belly and staying as silent as she could. With this at, the Boltace was placed back where it had rested moments earlier, and the mercenary returned to his spot upon the bunk. He closed his eyes and placed his hands back behind his head, though he listened closely, mentally following the voices as they wandered outside. After they were both still, less than a minute passed before there were lights accompanying the voices.  
  
" _Ophelia. Ophelia!_ _Yose oup sy ykipp_!" That was definitely her father. Him and just one or two other Corpus, it sounded like. Ordan was quiet was he listened. The voices got louder as they got closer, and soon the barracks were bathed in light. A few men grumbled and shifted in their beds. Ordan gave his own groan, raising one hand to shield his face from the beam. They were not going inside. Glancing in the windows, perhaps, but no more. 

Of course none of them dared to enter the barracks. No one stepped foot into the mercenaries’ bunks unless they absolutely had to, and even then, not many stepped past the doors. The group had quite a name for themselves among the Orokin ranks, and Ordan guessed this transferred just as strongly to the Corpus as well, seeing the way the search party barely ghosted over his living quarters. Just as well. 

The voices seemed to stop in place. Some hushed debating, though just what, Ophelia could not make out. A sigh from her father, followed by a declaration of " _ Keek pookitj _ " - Keep looking. She could hear more of their footsteps outside, and soon, she could hear them walk away, and their voices fade as they did.   
  
It was only then that the girl allowed herself a little sigh of relief, and a hushed voice whispered up to the mercenary on his bunk. " _ Thank you. _ "   
  
Once he was sure the voices were gone, the man hoisted himself back up, hanging his legs over the side of the bed. Stretching, he spoke in a low tone, as not to wake his mercenary brothers and sisters.    
  
“You can come out of there now, kid. They’re gone, it’s safe. Uh...  _ Jote. Ip’y yate _ .”

A little black bob cut peeked out from under the bed first, as the girl started to belly-crawl her way out. Once that was accomplished, she sat up on the floor, leaning against the bunk for support.

She turned her face up to her mysterious savior again, relief in her eyes now. "Your Corpus isn't bad," she complimented him, quietly. "But I know the High Tongue," she informed him before fidgeting with her hands. Ordan gave a huff at this, a smirk cracking those hardened features. Not bad, huh? He would make sure to tell the others that his Corpus ‘ _ wasn’t bad _ ’. Her ‘High Tongue’ wasn’t so bad, herself.

"Thank you. Really. I'd be in so much trouble if they found me here... Papa doesn't like when I wander away from the tower."

“Don’t mention it.” The mercenary answered, leaning forwards to rest his elbows on his knees. That brown hair hung down over his shoulders as he looked to the girl, amused by his sudden situation. It wasn’t every day that a hardened warrior finds a little Corpus girl in Orokin clothes hiding away in the barracks. 

“Though I do hope you understand that this would cause much more trouble for me than it would for you.” 

She bit her lip, nodding at him. "I understand," she confirmed. "I'm, uh... sorry, for getting you mixed up in this. I really didn't think I'd run into anybody. Honest." Her legs curled up, as she sat, debating what to say. In her mind, she owed this man a proper explanation for turning up in his living quarters in the dead of night. "I... ran away. I'm still trying to run away, I guess."

Ordan smirked, shaking his head as he ran a hand back through his hair, 

“It’s fine, it’s fine.” He insisted, “We needed a little excitement around here, anyways. Not every day you see a runaway Corpus kid.” He shook his head, “Besides, what reason could you possibly have to run away?” He asked with a scoff, “I mean, look at you! Dressed in fineries, well kept and fed!  _ Run away. _ I don’t take quite kindly to you lying to me, Corpus.”

The girl was almost indignant at him scoffing at her.  _ Hmph _ ! It wasn’t like he knew her situation. "My name isn't  _ Corpus _ , it's  _ Ophelia _ ," she hissed, with just a hint of sass to her voice. Bold one, this girl. "And no, I'm not treated poorly, but that isn't the point."   
  
The man raised an eyebrow at her retort. He didn’t expect her to snap back at him this way, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. Was she just another  _ Orokin-mimicking high-ranker? _ His people got enough mistreatment as it was, he did not need to be looked down upon by a  **_child_ ** . 

Ordan was used to those of her class looking down upon him and his brothers and sisters. Sure, the mercenary had made quite a name for himself, and would often receive praise for his  _ ‘good’  _ work, but it was never anything above a dog being given a bone for learning to fetch. When this girl began to retort the way she did, it was not unreasonable for Ordan to believe that she was just another one of  _ them _ . 

“Fine.  _ Ophelia _ .” He spat, frowning in response, “My apologies,  _ Your Highness _ .” 

The girl instantly puffed up, looking absolutely miffed at his newest designation of her. She hated being treated like a little princess. But unfortunately for her, her pouting was awfully cute, even as she glared at him. Another little huff, and she elaborated on her tale.

"My parents are... pretty respectable people. Scientists. They've had my life planned out for me since I was born. Mama is set on me training to be an Archimedean, you know, working my way up the ranks. Papa told me today that he's already sent my school reports to the Orokin for evaluation so they can admit me." Ophelia sighed, shaking her head. "But... they never bothered to ask me if I wanted any of it. And I don't. When I tried to tell them that, they wouldn't listen. They said I was going whether I wanted to or not, and that it was for my own good. It was too late for me to retrieve my records, so... here I am," she said, with a shrug, as she gestured to herself. "I was headed to the hangars to stow away. Catch a ride to some other planet in the System."

Laying back down on the bunk, Ordan laced his fingers together over his stomach, eyes closing as he listened to the girl speak. She was running away from a position as  _ Archimedean _ ? Seriously?!

“You understand what you’re refusing, don’t you, kid?” He asked without opening an eye.    
  
"Yeah, I understand," she scoffed slightly. "I understand the Orokin are stuffy and snooty and boring." Her arms crossed, as she continued. "All they do is sit around and give orders and obsess over how good they look. And if I was an Archimedean, I would answer to them all day, every day. Why would I want to be stuck kissing up to the Orokin for the rest of my life? There's got to be a better option somewhere. It's a big System."

He quirked a brow, turning his head to look at her.  _ Stuffy _ ,  _ snooty _ , and  _ boring _ . The man hadn’t expected to hear those words come from this girl’s mouth. With a smirk, he settled back again, his eyes closing.    
  
“Some quite undignified words coming from a little Corpus girl.” Ordan mused, “The Golden Lords wouldn’t take too kindly to someone with those ideals.”

"Good thing they're not here then," came the answer, a little mischievous glint in the girl's eye. "As for the words themselves, Mama watches me like a condroc to make sure I watch my language. But trust me, I’ve done worse." A little, crooked grin before she straightened up. "Just because I was born Corpus doesn't mean I love the Orokin. I can't control where I come from.”

The man gave a chuckle at this, a smile formed by his ragged features, flashing white teeth. He sighed, crossing one leg over the other. 

“What do you expect to achieve by running off, anyways?”

Her gaze wandered to look at the floor at his second question. She really hadn't thought this plan of hers through beyond getting on a ship bound for anywhere else. Looking back, she felt rather dumb for her impulsive decision.

"I... I don't know," she admitted, still trying to sound frustrated. "I don't know what I'd achieve. But at least, whatever it was, I'd get to choose it."

“Well, you’re not doing much  _ choosing  _ hiding out in the Mercenary Barracks, I can tell you that much. You’re lucky I’m in a good mood today, kid.”

Odd. Her entire life, she'd been taught to fear and avoid people like this, and yet... somehow, he made her feel comfortable talking this out. Ophelia tilted her head slightly at the man, her brow furrowing as she evaluated him. "You know... they teach us to be afraid of you. But you're not so bad."

Ordan gave a huff, and a smirk. What a sharp tongue this girl had! She definitely seemed sure of herself, and a little too comfortable for his liking. Was she forgetting where she was?    
  
“Is that so?” He asked, before sitting himself up. The man swung his legs around over the side of the bunk again, his features now holding a hardened expression.    
  
Green eye bore down on the girl, piercing and unwavering. The man definitely had a presence about him, and if he wished for someone to fear him,  _ they did _ .    
  
“ _ Who says I wasn’t still going to kill you? _ ”

That did it.

The girl's eyes flew fully open once more, and she could feel the blood drain from her face. Her heart was pounding again, urging her to run. All she managed to do was scramble back from the man a couple of stride lengths, and emit a tiny squeak of distress.   
  
"I- but- you-  _ y-yattop kipp se _ -" she stammered, reverting back to Corpus when under threat. She quickly corrected herself, though. "You can't kill me, they- they're looking for me, what if they found- you said you would be-"   
  
The poor child's thoughts were a jumble. Even as she glanced around for a quick exit, she knew it was no use. He could easily kill her before she got away, and nobody from the Corpus could help her, and oh  _ stars _ , she  **_was_ ** going to die here wasn't she -

Ordan held his glare for a moment, before it broke. Holding his stomach, he threw his head back and let out a loud, genuine laugh. There were a couple grumbles from other bunks, but no one fully woke— it was normal for noises to be heard at night, if two or more mercenaries couldn’t sleep. 

“Take it easy, kid!” He chuckled, “If I wanted to kill you, you’d have been dead  _ long ago _ .” 

Wait. He was just... messing with her?

The look of shock that crossed the girl's face at his laugh was quickly replaced by an embarrassed pout, her face reddening. Her arms crossed over her chest as she gave a huff and tried to curl up into a ball. "You're not funny," she mumbled, with a hint of a whimper.

"Sure I am!" He smirked, "It's not my fault if you weren't raised with a sense of humor." 

Running a hand through his hair, Ordan let out a sigh as he came down from his laughter. Sure, he could have been seen as a jerk for tricking the child, but humor of this type was not uncommon among the Mercenaries. Besides, she was getting a little too cocky for her own good.    
  
“Come here,” Ordan offered, patting the open space next to him on his bunk, “get off the floor. You’re going to get into  _ shit _ if you go back filthy.”   
  
After a moment, she stood. He was right. She had no reason to get herself covered in dirt, unless she had been somewhere she shouldn't be. And now that he had pointed out how flawed her plan was, her resolve to actually finish her trip to the hangars was beginning to weaken. Slowly, carefully, she took the offered seat, still pouting somewhat. Eyes darted back up to meet the mercenary again. "So... you think I should go back?"

Ordan rested his elbows on his knees, allowing his arms to hang inwards. He looked to the girl, giving her a genuine smile, one that most outside of the barracks had never seen. There was something about this young Corpus that made the warrior feel at ease. Perhaps he saw something in her. Perhaps he saw himself. 

"Unfortunately kiddo, I think so." He replied, "I know that's not what you wanted to hear, but I don't think running off and hiding will get you anywhere. I mean,  _ look at you _ . What are you planning to do, live under my bunk forever? Sorry, kid, but that space isn't for rent."

Though Ophelia huffed again, a smile of her own cracked through in response to his. He really wasn't so bad, maybe. She had meant that much. Maybe she sensed a strange kinship as well.

"Are you sure? I am Corpus you know. I could offer you a very good price," she joked, her smile growing. "See? Sense of humor."

"I'm sure you could." He laughed, before reaching up to ruffle the girl's hair. Another chuckle escaped him at the sight of the aftermath.

She gave a little sideways grin, laughing slightly as well and trying to get her hair smoothed down after he ruffled it. Yes. She liked this man. Despite his odd sense of humor. But she faltered as she took his assessment of the situation seriously. "Yeah... not to mention my parents would be worried sick,” she sighed, apparently giving in. Her elbows rested on her knees, too, mimicking him for a moment before she rested her chin in her hands.

Ordan's smile only grew at this, and he gave her a sideways glance, quirking a brow. 

"Wouldn't want to worry them, would we?"

A head shake, as she agreed. "At least I'll have a few months I can use to try and derail things," she commented further. "My training wouldn't start for a while yet."

The man stretched, his back cracking as he leaned backwards, arms behind his head. With a heavy sigh, he resumed his position, turning his head towards the young Corpus. The girl turned as he laid back, tilting her head slightly, as if wondering why he seemed to be retreating from the conversation.   
  
"Listen, kid. I've got to get some sleep tonight. What do you say you head home now, yes?"   
  
"Oh! Right." She was technically in his room, wasn't she? And late at night too. With a little hop off the bunk, she gave him a nod. "I'll be out. Thanks, again. What did you say your name was?"

Ordan laid himself back on his bunk, stretching out on top of the sheet, hands resting behind his head again. He crossed one leg over the other, and waved a hand to the girl. 

“Don’t mention it. Take care of yourself, kid.” He said, before yawning, and closing his eyes, her final question left unanswered. Perhaps it was best left that way.

Another head tilt, this one accompanied by a brow quirk. Still a man of mystery, hmm? Oh well. That was his prerogative. 

"I will," she promised him, as she slipped back towards the door - though not without a final glance over her shoulder at the mercenary. One way or another, with or without a name, she would definitely be trying to find him again.

Minutes later, Ophelia was hoisting herself back up to sit on the window ledge. The light was still on in her room, though nobody was inside. She swung first one leg, then the other into the room fully, before gently hopping down to land on the rug. Now in the light, she looked down at herself and did indeed see a few dirty spots on what had been spotlessly white garments.

Brows furrowed as she brushed the dirt off her nightwear as best as she could. The robe, she simply turned inside out as she draped it over a chair, and the slippers were kicked under her bed. If she were careful, she could hide the evidence of her misadventure, and her parents would never be the wiser about where exactly she had been hiding from them. No need to get them worked up over the thought of their daughter mingling with mercenaries in the dead of night. And certainly not when it might get her would-be savior in trouble.

The young Corpus slid back under her covers after extinguishing the light in her room. It didn’t take her long to realize just how tired she was. The events of the night, and all her running about, had worn her down. With the adrenaline rush of escape gone, it was mere minutes before her eyes closed, and she drifted to sleep.

“ _ Ophelia Zhamin. _ ”

The stern voice from her father woke her sooner than she would have liked, and an eye cracked open to see his stone-faced expression staring down at her. Oh boy. Sleepy, awake for three seconds, and already in trouble. It was… less surprising than she would have liked.

“Morning, Papa,” she grumbled as she rubbed her face. “Too early. Can’t I sleep more?”

Benj Zhamin was a tall man, though not especially muscular. His thoroughly groomed appearance was that expected of someone at his considerable rank. Hair that had once been as inky black as Ophelia’s had faded to a salt and pepper look, especially at the very front and sides. Its short, clean cut matched his cleanly shaven face, which had begun to show a few wrinkles and betray his age. The overall carefully maintained and sharp appearance compensated for any physical shortcomings to indicate that this was an intelligent and powerful man, one who was not to be trifled with.

“Oh, no doubt you are tired, after your little excursion,” he stated, plainly, not wasting any time. “I know you were angry. I know that perhaps we didn’t choose the best way to share the news with you. But running off, in the middle of the night? This is exceptional, even by your standards. Your mother was worried out of her mind over where you had gone.”

“I didn’t even go anywhere,” she bluffed as she sat up, trying to think of a quick and easy explanation. “What’re you talking about?”

“I am talking about me, walking into your room last night to make peace, only to discover you absent and your window wide open.” His arms were crossed, and as his dark eyes stared her down, he very clearly was not having any of this. “Or do you mean to tell me those incidents are entirely unconnected?”

“Yeah, that,” she agreed, still sleepy, but awake enough to keep up the lie, thank the stars. “I was probably down the hall. I got up to get some water then just… sort of sat in front of a bay window a while to think.” She blinked up at the man, hoping her feigned ignorance and innocence would be enough for her to skate by. “Window was because I wanted some air. It got stuffy in here.” Her voice lowered, as she tacked on another mutter. “Wonder why, given who made it.”

“ _ Ophelia. _ ” He scolded her sharply for her snide remark about the Orokin. “This is serious. Do you have any idea what could have happened to you out there, if the wrong people had found you?” Another frown, this one tinged with concern.

Though she knew he meant well, that remark from her father made her blood boil. She knew that very likely, her fellow Corpus would consider the mercenary she had just met the “wrong people”. Never mind that he had helped her, sheltered her from potential danger, when he hadn’t had to. When you were at their station in society, you either followed the Orokin line of thought, or looked the other way as everyone else did. Certain classes, certain jobs, were simply considered to be beneath you.

Just one more thing she hated about it.

“I can take care of myself just fine, Papa,” she spat back, sourly. “If you think I can’t, then whose fault is that? All I do is sit around in Corpus labs and Orokin towers and wait for our next transfer orders. If I don’t know how to handle myself, it’s because you never gave me the chance to learn.”

“We have given you multitudes of opportunities to learn, about topics that will not put you at risk. But you don’t seem to want them. Are you so against having a life as an Archimedean that you would sacrifice your own safety just to attempt to escape it?”

“Now that you mention it, yeah, I pretty much am,” she snapped, with a glare. “Not that it matters. I didn’t go anywhere last night, I told you that.”

Benj said nothing for a good thirty seconds, as he stared his daughter down disapprovingly. Of course he didn’t believe her, she thought to herself, he knew her too well for that. But he also couldn’t prove anything. It seemed they were at a stalemate.

Finally, her father spoke again. “We will discuss this another time,” he informed her, in a tone that said they were most certainly not done arguing about this thorny topic. “I’m going to go see if your mother is awake. She finally got some sleep, after being up half the night.”

As much as she didn’t want to, Ophelia did feel guilty over that. She had acted based on her own impulses only, without thinking about how her parents would react on finding her gone. And, as impossible as she thought her mother Quorra could be, she did still love her. It wasn’t like she wanted to cause her any distress - or her father either, for that matter. She just… wasn’t the obedient daughter they seemed to want her to be.

"Get dressed for classes,” came the next set of instructions. “Whether or not you want to attend your future schooling will not affect your attendance now.” Benj shook his head and sighed slightly at Ophelia. “And for the love of profit, Lia, don’t go running off again. I don’t want to put you under house arrest.”

Well, she wasn’t totally off the hook, but she’d gotten away with the most questionable parts of her stunt. She would settle for that.

“All right, Papa, I get it,” she grumbled, still muttering under her breath about not having run off. Her father threw his hands up in surrender before leaving the room. Ophelia waited a few seconds to make sure he was gone before letting out a sigh of her own, but one of relief. A few more hours, maybe days, where she wouldn’t have to face the issue of her delinquency. Mission accomplished.

She got ready as usual. The girl dressed herself in a plain, but sleek, student uniform of grey and blue colors - true Corpus wear. She was anticipating another boring day of basic mathematics and sciences. But when she was preparing to leave to report to classes, a message arrived in her inbox. An accident in a Grineer shipyard had delayed the arrival of a few transport ships returning from the Venusian mountain cities - including one her instructor had been aboard. It seemed her classes were cancelled for the day.

Well, Ophelia wasn’t about to question skipping school with a valid excuse handed to her on a silver platter. And she saw no reason to inform her parents. It wasn’t breaking the rules, not really. Her free time was hers, and she was going to take advantage of it. So she left her parents’ temporary apartments as if nothing were different than any other day.

The girl, still smartly dressed but looking much less Orokin-esque than she had during her adventure the previous night, spent her time outside, walking casually and pacing some of the more open fields and courtyards scattered among the buildings. It was nice weather out - no point in wasting the day. Every so often, she stopped and picked up a rock, examining it closely. Word among the Corpus kid ranks had it there were gems in this area's terrain. Maybe she would get lucky and find a few.   
  
The girl's wandering soon brought her into the outskirts again. She'd come upon what looked like training or sparring grounds. Hmm. Very interesting. Though, as it was still rather early, there were only a few people using them.   
  
One of those few looked very familiar.   
  
She almost couldn't believe her luck. One day, and she'd run into him twice? Immediately, she started trying to wave and get the mysterious mercenary's attention. 

The sparring grounds were relatively deserted this morning, as most of the Mercenaries were either still fast asleep or were just waking up. Two men, however, were up bright and early as per usual, and were busy training. One man— the larger of the two— seemed to be the leader, shouting orders to the other as their weapons clanged together. They would swing, and block, and swing.

Watching him, she quickly realized he was  _ good _ .  **_Very_ ** good. At least, she thought he was, from what little she knew about fighting. Every thrust and parry was met effortlessly on his part. She was beyond impressed; she was fascinated.

The larger man’s focus, however, was soon pulled away as he saw movement in the distance. Who  _ was _ that? 

“ _ Ordan! _ ”    
  
“Huh, what?”    
  
“ _ Stars _ , Ordan, I could have  _ honestly  _ stabbed you! Like,  **_made-you-into-an-Ordan-kebab_ ** kinda stabbed you! What’s the  _ heck’s _ gotten into you?!” The smaller man exclaimed, before driving his weapon into the ground beside him.    
  
Ordan shook his head, as if trying to clear it,   
  
“Sorry. Just uh... Listen, we’re cutting today’s lesson short, Sigha. I’ve got some business to take care of.” He answered, his attention obviously somewhere else. As he passed the other, he pulled the discarded weapon out of the ground and pushed it back into his partner’s hands,    
  
“Don’t do that, you’ll make the blade go dull.”    
  
Sigha gave the man a confused look, but didn’t pry. He knew better than to dig into Ordan’s business. With a shrug, he hoisted his weapon over his shoulder and headed back into the barracks.    
  
His own weapon held in a similar fashion, Ordan strode across the sparring grounds, towards the figure he had seen out of the corner of his eye. True to his suspicion, the little Corpus girl stood, waving him down. She grinned to herself as she successfully caught his attention. Victory. She tucked her hands behind her back, waiting for him to approach. When he did, she got a full view of his scarred face, in daylight, for the first time. There were a lot. Far more than even she had thought. It made her blink, and pause.   
  
“So, we meet again.” He spoke, his form towering over the girl, “Don’t you know it’s rude to interrupt a training session?”

"I- erm- sorry. I just saw you, and I... well, I thought I'd say hi," she said sheepishly. "I have the day off and was out looking to see if I could find any azurite laying around."

Ordan gave a huff, and a smirk. This kid was something else, wasn’t she? It was strange. He knew very well that he shouldn’t be humoring her. He should have marched her straight back home the moment he caught her in the barracks. However, he just... Couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Whatever made this man willing to humor her wild behavior, Ophelia was thankful for it.

The man shook his head as he ran a hand back through his messy brown hair.    
  
“Don’t worry about it, kiddo.” He laughed, “You only nearly got me gutted.” 

Looking back over his shoulder, Ordan checked to see if the others had come out for training yet. No one that he could see…

"Gutted? With how well you were doing?" she commented, hands on her hips. "Please. I bet a Dax couldn't stand up to you. I snuck into one of their sparring sessions once too." A pause, followed by a sheepish grin. "And uh... was quickly escorted out."

Pride swelled in the man’s chest at this, and he couldn’t help but feel a little honored that she would think so. A Dax? They were trained rigorously to protect only the highest of Golden Lords. For her to see him higher than a Dax... That was definitely something. 

“A Dax sparring session, huh?” He asked, quirking a brow, “And what exactly was that like?”    
  
Nothing like  _ their _ training sessions, he assumed. The Mercenaries had learned their skills on their own. No Dax interference.    
  
As high-ranking as they were, the Dax were nothing more than dogs, sitting loyally by their Masters, waiting for their next command. Some could argue that the Mercenaries were similar, though the men themselves would beg to differ. Ordan, however…

"Honestly? It was... not bad," she said, in thought. "The Dax are nothing to sneeze at. But, it also seemed kind of... rehearsed? Is that the word?" she questioned, tapping her chin in thought. "Like they were just going through the motions instead of actually thinking they would need it." A shrug. "Guess they don't see a lot of action."

Ordan gave an indignant huff at this. Not bad. Of  _ course _ they were  _ "not bad" _ , they were  **_Dax!_ ** As much as he hated to admit it, money and power could buy you relatively good bodyguards,  _ especially _ if you were basically  _ Gods _ . However, he agreed with the girl. The Dax trained hard, and were loyal to the Orokin, but they barely saw any real action. Who would dare to challenge an Orokin? No one, that's who. When you're as powerful as they, no one in their  _ right mind  _ would try to lay a finger on them. 

Of course, rehearsal soon turned into monotony, and monotony made the senses dull. Ordan knew this well. This was the Dax's fatal flaw.   
  
“So, Azurite, huh?” He mused, turning back to face her, “What’s a little squirt like you need with Azurite? Starting up a business already?”    
  
Ordan crouched down to her level,    
  
“I knew they started ‘em young, but  _ this _ is  _ surprising _ .”

She scrunched up her face, and her nose, at his joke. "Oh, ha ha.  _ Very _ funny. Corpus jokes, huh?" she observed dryly. But, a little smirk appeared as she got an idea. "Well, I really just think it's pretty. But if you're interested, well...  _ that _ is another matter."

The man couldn’t help but laugh at this. Another full-fledged belly laugh, that scarred face lit up with a glow that could surely outshine any Orokin. She absolutely beamed when he laughed at her response. Ophelia liked when he laughed. It was such a contrast to his overall more serious demeanor. It made her feel more comfortable talking to him so casually. Being herself.   
  
“Sure, kid, how much for one?” He mused, “On second thought, let’s see your inventory. Is that all you’re sellin’?”   
  
"Well I don't have a full inventory  _ yet _ ," she qualified. "Still searching, you know. But, when I do, you'll be the first to know. Then we can talk price," she grinned, sticking out her hand proudly, as she had seen other Corpus do when striking a deal. "I'll get you a friends and family discount."

"So it's a budding business, then." The man smirked, before standing, and hoisting his blade over his shoulder, "Wait right here a moment, I'll be back." 

With that, Ordan turned and left, disappearing back into the Barracks. His departure confused Ophelia for a moment, brows furrowing as she tilted her head. The girl took a seat on the ground, legs crossed once more. A few minutes passed, before he returned, his weapon replaced with a tiny brown sack, tied with a golden yellow thread. She sprung up when she saw the mercenary return. The little sack confused her further, and it showed on her face as her rehearsed demeanor cracked. Once he reached her once more, he extended his hand.      
  
"Hold out your hand."

"But... huh?" she asked, confused. Nevertheless, she extended her hand as well, indigo eyes looking into his green one, trying to decipher what he meant. "Why?"

He took her small hand in his-- it was rough, calloused-- and placed the small sack into her palm. Yes, his hand was rough, but his touch was gentle. Surprisingly so. She accepted the sack, and cautiously pulled the string open with her delicate fingers. He gave a smirk, before crossing his arms behind his back. He was up to something, that much was clear.

What she saw inside made her eyes fly open, sparkling in amazement. Inside the sack was an assortment of a few different gems. There were a few Azurite, along with some Devar, Veridos, Crimzian, and even a single piece of Sentirum and Nyth, respectively. The mercenary watched as the girl inspected his gift's contents, that sideways smirk lingering on his features.

"I- but these are-" She carefully extracted the Nyth, turning it in her hand. "These are  _ beautiful _ . I've never even held Nyth in my hand before, I- it's  _ amazing _ ." Eyes snapped up to his face yet again, this time in wonder. "Where did you even find them?!"

The man couldn't help but break into a full smile at this. To see someone appreciate the stones so greatly, turning them over with such care. Made picking the things up worth his time, after all. And to think, Malv and Sigha had tormented him to no end about it-- all in jest, of course. 

He shrugged, "I've been places, kid. A  _ lot _ of places. Started picking them up whenever I'd see them. Kind of a passtime, I suppose." More like an anchor to sanity.    
  
"Though, I'm all in favor of supporting new  _ business ventures _ ." There was that smirk again, "I'm sure a  _ young businesswoman _ like yourself could find better use for them."

No. He couldn't be.  _ Stars above _ , was he  **_giving_ ** them to her?!

The shock on the girl's face was evident. She stared at him for a moment, lips parted in a frozen gasp. "You don't mean-  _ yjeep ktotip _ , I couldn't possibly take these," she started to protest. She knew, or had a good idea, of how much these stones would be worth, if cut and polished and sold to the right person. It was a  _ lot _ . She was certain he knew that as well. So why give them to her? 

"Sure you could." Ordan assured, crossing his arms over his chest as he gave the young Corpus a smile, "Besides, they were just sitting around collecting dust back in the Barracks. I assumed you could get a lot more out of them than I could."

"But - I'm just some kid who hid under your bunk. I mean - I don't even know how I'd thank you properly. I don't even know your  _ name _ ."

Tilting his head slightly to the side, that smile grew, albeit a little lopsided. This kid was a riot. Didn't she know how to accept a gift? Did Corpus even _give_ each other gifts, or did they really have to pay for _everything?_   
  
"I could say the same to you, _Little Runaway_."  
  
She stuck her tongue out at the man, one hand still clutching the little sack. "I _told_ you, it's Ophelia. Though Runaway does have a nice ring to it. Hmmm."

"Ah, yes, Ophelia. My memory must have escaped me.  _ Run away _ from me, if you will." He smirked, obviously finding a great amount of pleasure in pestering the girl. He leaned down, "Didn't your Mother ever teach you that sticking your tongue out at others is rude?" With that, his stuck his own tongue out in reply.

"She tried. But she failed." The girl grinned again. She really did take pride in being a pest, it would seem. "And what do you mean run away from y-"

Suddenly, she stopped, and blinked again. "That- was that a  _ pun _ ?" Ophelia was flabbergasted. First he had given her a small collection of gems, and now he was throwing around puns? Was there no end to the surprises he had in store?   
  
The girl gave a little snorting laugh, now that she'd caught it. "That was  _ terrible _ . But also, strangely brilliant. You do those often?"

Ordan’s smirk grew as his joke dawned on the girl. At least it hadn’t flown over her head— he honestly would have been a little disappointed if it had. He shrugged,

“Just for you, kiddo.”

"Well don't I feel special," she said, with a giggle and a little grin. Honestly, she rather did. He was being very kind to her, and humoring her, when he didn't have to. Orokin usually disregarded her, and any Corpus besides her parents met her with disapproving scowls. At least he seemed to  _ like _ her.

After another moment, she realized this was really happening. She pulled the little bag close, still gazing up at him with those huge eyes. "... Thank you. So much.  _ Pkatk you _ ." She didn't know what else to say, really. "I promise I'll take good care of them."

With a laugh, the man righted himself,    
  
"Don't mention it, kiddo. Let's see, uh...  _ You'te jepyose _ ."   
  
To his spoken Corpus, she gave a little smile, and a nod. "A little softer on the j, but otherwise, very good.  _ Tety joop _ . What other languages do you know?"   
  
The man tilted his head slightly as she corrected his Corpus. Softer on the j, huh? He’d have to remember that.    
  
“Other than the Golden Tongue? Ah, a little Grineer, but not much. Enough to get by.” Quirking a brow, his curiosity was suddenly spiked, “What about you? Don’t tell me you’re secretly some sort of  _ linguist _ or something!”   
  
"Me? Please," she scoffed. "I've been to half the Corpus bases in the system, and a few Orokin towers. But my parents would  _ never _ even give me the  _ chance _ to learn Grineer. Or much else for that matter. I only know as much of the Golden Tongue as I do because of their plans for me, and their Orokin-sponsored work. They thought I should learn it." The girl shrugged. "Boring, I know. But they're training me up in math and science. Not linguistics. They'd prefer I stay close to home." Another face of distaste was pulled by the girl at the thought.

Ordan listened as the girl spoke, with a slight tilt of his head. She really didn’t get out much, did she? No wonder she was so eager to get out of there. He would have gone stir crazy by this point! And she was still so young, too... Poor kid, she had a long, boring life ahead of her.

She seemed to realize how much Ordan had probably traveled in comparison to her, and latched excitedly onto the thought. "I bet you've been everywhere, huh? I bet you get sent on missions around the System all the time. What's that like? Where all have you been? Where was your last one?" The questions came excitedly pouring out, one after the other.

The Mercenary’s head perked up when the questions started blurting from the child’s mouth. He blinked in surprise, taken back for a moment before he shook his head, putting a hand up to stop her,   
  
“Woah, woah,  _ slow down! _ Take it  _ easy _ , kid!” He laughed, “One at a time,  _ please _ .”   
  
Ordan crossed his arms and rolled his shoulders,    
  
“Yes, I’ve been quite a few places. The Orokin have me running around all over the Systems on assignments.” Leaning down, the man cupped a hand near his mouth, lowering his voice, “Just between you and me, I think I’m their favorite.” He winked, before straightening back up again with a laugh. 

She bit her lip, with a little apologetic smile as she waited just as eagerly for his answers. Another giggle surfaced at his declaration that he was their favorite. "You must be as good as you are in practice, then, or they wouldn't send you out so much."

“That, or they’re hoping I’ll get killed.” He joked, not really realizing that perhaps his humor was a little darker than she was raised hearing.

"Well  _ I'm _ not hoping you get killed," she said, clearly taken aback, with a slight whine to her voice. The girl didn't really fully understand his dark humor yet. In a bold move, she reached forwards, resting a hand on his arm. "So you'd better not die anytime soon."

Alright, so  _ that _ one went over her head. She  _ was _ just a kid, after all. Oops. 

“I’ll be sure not to die,” he assured, a small, sly smile still lingering on his features, “ _ Just for you _ .”

A brief little nod came, as she seemed satisfied with his answer. Indigo eyes looked back up at him, and in them was a certain sincerity. The honest, pure kind that only children really possessed. She really had taken a liking to the man. "Just for me," she repeated, quietly.

“As for what it’s like, well...” The man paused, mulling over his next words carefully. How exactly did he tell a young child what his job was like without scarring her for life? It wasn’t like he worked at a freaking  _ bakery _ or something, for Star’s sake! He was a  _ Mercenary _ ! An Assassin for hire! He couldn’t just blurt out  _ ’I kill people!’ _ and expect it to go over smoothly! 

Though the child was no baby, and not exactly naive, she still was young, yes. Young and impressionable. It was probably for the best that he not give her the gory details. For though she would know he was probably omitting things, her mind was still innocent enough to be unable to imagine exactly what.

“Well, it’s uh...  _ Interesting _ . I get to see a lot of new sights, meet a lot of people...”

"Meet? Or fight?" she asked, cheekily, nevertheless. "I've never seen anyone use a blade like you do. Guards or Dax or  _ anyone _ . Do you have a favorite?"

He smirked at her comment, quirking a brow down at her.    
  
“Hey now, Smartass,” he laughed, “I’ll have you know I don’t greet  _ everyone _ with a blade to the face!” 

“Speaking of which,” Ordan continued, “You’ve seen my favorite.”

"Oh, just me again? I really  **_am_ ** special," she beamed, that time catching onto a joke. Tilting her head, she thought back to the night before. "So that one you had... that's your favorite? I think I remember seeing one. Or a picture of one... what was it called? A bola- a Balt- something starting with a B?"

Ordan couldn’t help but laugh as the young Corpus attempted the name of his weapon. He shook his head,    
  
“Nice try, kiddo. It’s called a  _ Boltace _ . It’s a Tonfa. ‘Usually two of ‘em.” He shrugged his shoulders, “Lost one of them in a heated batt- er... On a particularly difficult  _ assignment _ years ago. Just couldn’t bare to let it go.”   
  
Her voice picked back up to its normal excited tone when he told her the name. "Oh! Boltace. Right." A Boltace. She'd remember that. It was a rather impressive looking blade, after all.    
  
A little smile appeared, as she caught him almost saying 'battle'. Though she would have loved to hear that story, for the time being, she let it go. "So you just use the one that's left now?" she asked him.

Ordan smirked a bit as the girl’s excitement seemed to return full-force. She was an endless fountain of the stuff, wasn’t she?

“Yeah. It’s been years since I had the two together.” The man admitted, giving another shrug as he crossed his arms, “It’s still an effective weapon, dual or single.” 

"Don't have to tell me twice," Ophelia agreed. A hand rubbed the back of her neck, tracing around her jaw to her chin as she remembered the night prior. "I mean, it's fierce looking enough just sitting there. Having it pointed at you is... something," she acknowledged with a slightly nervous laugh. But a laugh all the same. Ordan’s brow raised at this, and he couldn’t help but smirk. He shook his head again, 

“Sorry, kid. If I had known you were just a Corpus squirt, I wouldn’t have threatened you.” He said teasingly, though sincerely.

"Hey!" even as she laughed, she gave him a playful little shove. Of course, it wouldn't move him at all, given the size difference between them. "Maybe I'm not a squirt. Maybe you're just a giant," she teased right back.

“Maybe I am.” He replied, leaning down slightly to smirk a little closer to the girl after she attempted to shove him, “Maybe I just come from an entire clan of Giants and I haven’t realized it until now.  _ Thank you _ , for helping me see the light!” With that, he straightened up as he threw his head back and laughed.

Once Ophelia calmed down from her own laughter, she shrugged off the actual incident in question. "Don't worry about it. I snuck into your room. It's understandable. And at least it's a good story I'll probably never get to tell," she added, with a little grin. “Honestly, you seem like you don't really need a second blade. Wish I could have seen you use them both, though," she said, wistfully.

Shaking his head, the mercenary gave a chuckle,   
  
“I don’t know about that, kid.”

She tilted her head to the side, brows furrowing. Why was he reluctant to brag about his skills? It didn't make sense to her. Not when he was so obviously good.

"You know. All the guards or soldiers I've ever seen love to brag. They always talk themselves up. But not you," she relayed after a moment, explaining her observations. "You seem... different. Not in a bad way. Just different."

He frowned slightly as she spoke of the other guards. Of course they liked to brag. They were not raised by honor, but by greed, just like the Orokin. They did not fight for anything but  _ fame _ , but  _ money _ , but  _ power _ . He, on the other hand, and his people— they fought for honor. They fought not for personal gain, but because they were born with the blood of a Warrior. They were nothing alike.  _ Nothing. _

“Different, huh?” was all he replied, “I’d say you’re pretty different, yourself, kiddo.”

For a moment, she was afraid she had said something wrong. Her smile faltered, as she saw how his face changed when she compared him to others in service to the Orokin. " _ I'm _ different? I'll take that as a compliment," she said. "That was how I meant it anyway.”

“Relax, kid, I’m not insulting you.” Ordan assured, his brows furrowing slightly, though he kept a smile, “I’m glad you think so, because we’re not  _ trying _ to be like the others.  _ Hell _ no!” Another laugh. 

“I'm glad you're not like the others. I like talking to you," she admitted, sincerely.

The man reached out and ruffled the young girl’s hair. This time, she didn't fix it immediately, continuing to beam up at the man instead.

“Well, kiddo, that makes two of us.” 

The Mercenary’s attention was snagged as a voice called  _ ”Hey!” _ from behind. Someone was waving him down from the sparring grounds. He turned back to Ophelia after looking over his shoulder,    
  
“Ah, we’ll have to pick this  _ riveting _ conversation up later, kiddo.” He joked, “Looks like I’ve been gone a little too long. I’ve got a position to uphold, you know.” 

Ophelia leaned slightly, as if trying to see who was calling for him. Did he really have to leave already? So many people seemed to require his attention. "A position?" she questioned, for a moment. Was he somebody important?

Ordan turned, returning the other Mercenary’s wave, before giving the girl one last look over his shoulder,   
  
“I’ll see you around. Don’t go sneaking into any more Barracks, alright?” He said with a wink, before running off.   
  
She wouldn’t get a chance to follow up her question, it would seem. Her mysterious new friend was already sending her off, even as he got back to his duties. As he started leaving, she called out her own farewell. "You won't get rid of me that easily! You can count on it!"   
  
Then, with a little huff, she looked again at the bag of gems she had been gifted. The girl held them tightly, and closely, as she dashed back home across the rough ground. The gems soon had found a new home in a small, decorative lockbox she kept stored in a hidden compartment in the head of her bed. Perhaps it was overkill, considering the gems were in an inconspicuous little bag, but Ophelia wanted to be sure nobody would be taking these from her. It was one of the most valuable - and, perhaps, strangest - gifts she had ever received.

She spent the remainder of the day in the tower library and later in her room, searching through whatever data files she had access to. Though she thought it worth a try, she didn't really expect to find any information on the man; Orokin mercenaries were not exactly well-publicized. The Orokin mostly liked to pretend they didn't exist, so the group lived largely in the shadows. Which, as it turned out, benefitted their work.

Sure enough, the young Corpus was disappointed in her search. She'd never find what she was looking for in public files. She'd have to hack into the encrypted Orokin networks - something she was neither willing nor able to do. People didn't just go snooping around the Executor Council's private information feeds. Not unless they had a death wish.   
  
So it wasn't without reason that Ophelia was a bit more sulky the next day, as she scribbled in her notebooks on a bench in the science facility's courtyard. Short of party crashing the barracks again and hoping she got lucky, without a name to put to the face, it was going to be very difficult for her to find her new friend again. And she'd much rather be talking to him than solving physics problems she had surpassed years ago. The girl was in a bit of a pickle about what to do next.   
  
A few other groups of students passed her by as she sulked, all apparently as reluctant to be there as she. They wanted to find anything to talk about other than schoolwork. Out of boredom, if nothing else, she eavesdropped from time to time.   
  
"Well,  _ I _ heard that Menda got suspended for stealing credits from the headmaster's desk - no  _ really! _ -"   
  
"- so hot out. Especially for this time of year. When's it going to rain, already?"   
  
"- Yeah, just came back in day before yesterday, with a few of his best mercenaries-"   
  
What? What was that last one?

Snapping her notebook closed, the girl perked up immediately, trying to nonchalantly scoot closer to the two boys who were chatting not far away. Maybe she could get close enough... yes, she could hear them much better now.

"You're bluffing. There's no way they'd advertise the Beast of Bones coming back into town." One boy, the older of the two, scoffed at the younger.   
  
"But they didn't! I’m telling you, Petyr!" the second insisted, desperate to be taken seriously. 

She thought she recognized these boys from a mathematics course she'd taken last semester. The younger hadn't been easily excitable, so this must really be something. If she remembered Petyr correctly, he was… kind of an ass. He liked to instigate and get younger kids riled up, for no other reason than he thought it was funny to watch them squirm to try and prove themselves to an older kid. That explained the smaller boy’s tone as he spoke, then.

"I  _ saw _ him get off the ship! The Beast of Bones in the flesh! Single Boltace blade and all!"

That made Ophelia freeze. A single Boltace blade? No... but they were talking about... he couldn't be...   
  
"Wait. You saw who, now?" she said, with an incredulous tone, getting in on the conversation, trying to egg the boy on. "A Boltace isn't an ID card, you know."   
  
"But it  _ was _ him! Ordan Karris! I swear!" he exclaimed, getting frustrated at being questioned. "Why would I lie about that?!"   
  
"Oh yeah?" Ophelia challenged further, crossing her arms in defiance, even as her heart raced. Play your cards carefully, she thought to herself. "Come on, you have to give us more than that. Lots of people might have a Boltace you know. We need a real description," she stated, glancing to the other boy, Petyr, for support, who offered a smirk and a nod, crossing his own arms. "You wanna impress the little lady or not?"   
  
Ophelia restrained snapping at Petyr just long enough to get an annoyed answer.   
  
"I'm telling you. This guy was built, at least six feet tall, and  _ ripped _ . Muscles over muscles. And scars all over his face, one in his hairline even. And- and he had an eyepatch! Just the one eye, his right one!" he offered, pointing at his own right eye. "And fully armored! And the Boltace! You can't tell me that wasn't the damn Beast of Bones, either of you."

No, Ophelia really couldn't say he wasn't. But she had more pressing questions, now, this time for a certain mercenary friend of hers.

Such as why he had failed to mention that he was only the most feared and legendary warrior  _ ever to  _ **_live_ ** .

"Yeah... sounds about right," she muttered, shuffling off deep in thought. The boy must have mistaken it for defeat, because she heard an exclamation of "See, Petyr! She believes me!" as she departed the conversation.   
  
It took her mere moments to decide what to do next. Scooping up her things into her bag as quickly as she could, Ophelia started at a brisk walk as she left the courtyard. By the time she left the Corpus school areas, however, she was in a full sprint, in a beeline for the mercenary barracks.   
  
This time, when she got there, they were far from deserted, and she was somewhat afraid to approach. She didn't know any of these people. There was no guarantee they would be as understanding as her friend had been. Who was to say they wouldn't harm her somehow, or else march her back to be turned in to her parents? Nevertheless, she swallowed her fear, and took a deep breath, forcing herself to walk at a steady pace into the camp.

The barracks were bustling with action— mercenaries still in armor seemingly returning from an assignment. She glanced around at the many faces, looking for anyone familiar. Some were shedding blood-soaked clothing, leaving them on their bunks to head off towards the showers, while some were still removing their protective plating.    
  
Sigha didn’t happen to be one of those men today. He, instead, was sitting back on his bunk, one hand behind his head, a drink in the other.

While Ophelia didn't see her companion, she did see the mercenary he had been training with the day before. Or she thought she did. He looked the same, at least. Carefully, raising a hand to attract his attention, she approached her chosen target. "Erm... excuse me? Hi," she greeted him in the Orokin High Tongue, admittedly a little feebly. 

When the child approached him, he sat up straight, setting his mug down on the floor. A few other mercenaries turned to look at Ophelia as well, though they said nothing.

Then she cleared her throat, and took a chance. "I'm looking for Ordan. Ordan Karris? I need to speak to him."

“Uh...” Sigha began, rubbing the back of his neck, just under the two protruding bone plugs, “You’re lookin’ for  _ who _ ?”    
  
This had to be some kind of joke, right? Some kid come here on a dare. There was no way she was being serious!    
  
The mercenary swung his legs over the side of the bed, one cut short at the knee,   
  
“Look kid, I don’t know who sent you here, but this isn’t a safe place to be playin’ games. Understand?” He warned, frowning, “Especially when you’re comin’ around askin’ for people like  _ Ordan _ .”

"B-But - I'm not playing a game! Honest!" she insisted, trying to sound more confident than she really was. Despite her being a girl on a mission, her eyes were darting around the barracks now and then. She was still on the defensive, and the bloodstained clothing and armor plating wasn't exactly reassuring for her.

Sigha wasn’t so sure. He ran a hand down his slick black hair, stopping at the tight bun it was pulled into. He looked uncertain. What was he supposed to do? Sure, he was a mercenary, but he wasn’t a  _ menace! _ He wasn’t about to tell the kid to scram or something. Maybe he’d just... Humor her. It would be a fun story for her to tell, right? That she met Ordan Karris? Then again, if he let  _ one _ kid in...

"Nobody sent me. I - I came because I want to talk to him. Again," she amended her request. "You were sparring with him yesterday morning, right? So you know him too?" she asked, latching onto the one bit of information she knew for certain. "Please. Just let Ordan know I'm here. That's all I ask. You can tell him it's the little Corpus squirt. He'll know who I am." At least, he will if I'm guessing right, she thought to herself.

He stopped and looked back to her when she mentioned yesterday’s sparring. Was she...

“Wait... Are you tellin’ me  _ you’re _ the one that he ditched me for?” The man asked, before busting into a loud, belly laugh, making a few other mercenaries look their way. 

Ophelia jumped slightly when he laughed, but then smiled and nodded. "Yeah. That was me yesterday," she admitted, sheepishly. She still wasn't sure if he believed her, but... it was a start.

“Tell you what, kid,” he said, picking up the prosthetic that leaned on his bedside and securing it to his left leg. He was still coming down from his laughter, “I don’t know if you’re tellin’ me the truth, but I’ll take you over to Ordan and you can ask him yourself. How’s that sound?”   
  
Her nodding only grew in enthusiasm as he seemed to cave and allow her to see Ordan. "I- yes! Yes please! That's perfect," she declared, excitedly. She glanced at his prosthetic for a moment, but refused to stare or ask, out of years of taught politeness.

The man stood, stretched, and picked a shirt up off the end of the bed as he passed. Tugging it over his head, he motioned for the girl to follow. 

As they passed, many of the mercenaries turned their heads to look, though they didn’t say anything. Sigha was one of the Bearers of the Bone Plugs, thus they had learned not to question him, lest they receive some negative attention from the Beast of Bones, himself.

"I'm Ophelia, by the way," she informed him. "And you are?"

“Name’s Sigha.” He replied, looking briefly over his shoulder at the small Corpus, “You’ve got some kinda guts comin’ here alone like this, kid. Especially dressed like that! You just get outta school or somethin’?” Another laugh.

“Askin’ for Ordan Karris!  _ Ordan fuckin’ Karris! _ Now I’ve seen everythin’!” 

She followed as indicated, giving a little sideways grin at his remark about her having guts. She was much more fond of such remarks than being called a little lady. "Nice to meet you, Sigha."

"Well... it's actually my break period. I have more classes in a while. So, technically, I'm skipping," the girl told him, not without a hint of mischief. "It was all pretty boring anyway, though."

“Are you  _ serious? _ ” Sigha looked down at the girl, quirking a brow slightly, “Hey, I admire your spirit, but you shouldn’t be skippin’ class, y’know? You’ve gotta keep going to those to get a good job. Get somethin’ better than this.” He gave her a playful smile.

The two rounded a corner, and entered a smaller room. There were a few beds lining the walls, where a couple of mercenaries lay. They were bandaged and battered, most of them asleep or quiet. This area did not have the same bustling atmosphere as the main Barracks at all.    
  
At the end of the room, two men spoke casually. One, with long white hair tied back in an intricate braid, was carefully dabbing at the other man’s side. The other groaned slightly, before making a quip about the white haired man’s bedside manner, to which he got another remark in return. They both laughed at this. 

Ophelia glanced around the smaller room, noting the various men and their injuries. The life of a mercenary was as dangerous as the rumors would have people think, then. She assumed the white haired man was some sort of doctor or healer. And his patient?

As Sigha approached with the child, the second man came into view. Brown hair, eyepatch, and scarred to shit. Looked like he was about to have a nice new one too, thanks to a fresh, gnarly gash sliced into his right side.    
  
“Hey,  _ Ordan! _ ” Ophelia’s escort called, as the white-haired man wrapped gauze around the Beast’s torso, “Got someone here to see ya!”

Ordan looked up when his name was called, but the other man didn’t react. He was too busy finishing the wrapping. Blood was already soaking through, leaving a growing splotch of red blooming from the Beast’s right side.

"So it  _ is _ true," she marveled aloud, after catching full sight of her acquaintance, and hearing him called Ordan. 

“Sigha, tell them to come back  _ later _ , would you? I’m a  _ little _ busy-“ he stopped as he caught sight of the kid, who was already spouting out words at a mile a minute. So much  _ energy! _

"You’re really him! I mean, you I guess. Why didn't you tell me? I told you my name, it's only-"

She stopped, suddenly turning distressed as she caught sight of the size of his new injury. "What the bloody hell happened to you?!" the girl exclaimed, manners forgotten in her concern.   
  
“Hey, slow down, Kid!” He held up a hand in defense, giving a chuckle, “Are your dials  _ always _ turned up this high, Squirt?”    
  
“Wait, do you  _ actually _ know this kid?” The black-haired man asked.   
  
“I may have run into her once or twice.” Ordan smirked, giving a slight grimace, “Easy, Kurik, easy...”    
  
The Healer shook his head, and continued his work.    
  
Ordan couldn’t help but laugh heartily at the girl’s sudden outburst. He held his side, and Kurik tried to scold him into settling down, but he would have none of it.    
  
“Kid, I hope you didn’t think this job was  _ safe! _ ”

The girl actually huffed at Ordan, and gave him a stern look. She was being serious! He was  _ injured! _ What was so funny about this?

"No I didn't think it was  _ safe _ , I'm not an idiot. But I  _ distinctly  _ remember you promising me you  _ wouldn't _ die anytime soon," she reminded him, crossing her arms. " _ And my dials are just fine! _ "

“I don’t remember anyone calling you an idiot, kiddo.” Ordan quirked a brow, giving her a smirk, “Take it easy, will ya?”

Anyone who knew Ophelia at all would know that she refused to ever take it easy. Still, as if self-conscious now that he'd said something, she forced herself to slow down and breathe for a moment.   
  
As the Healer finished bandaging the Beast, he stood upright and sighed, shaking his head. Ordan placed a hand on his shoulder,    
  
“Thank you again, my friend. You are always helpful.”    
  
Kurik scoffed, and spoke in a strange, thick accent that definitely was not of Orokin origin, “I have told you about going into battle without plating, but  _ no! _ Beast of Bones must show off, isn’t right, Ordan?” 

Ophelia paused her train of thought to give a little smirk to Ordan. "Yeah. The  _ Beast of Bones _ over here can show off in battle but not to little Corpus squirts, apparently. We have to go finding out for ourselves," she muttered. Just to erase any doubts.

“Hey now, let’s not do this in front of the kid, alright?” The wounded man insisted, though it was obvious he was playing the situation up to try and keep the spirits light.    
  
“ _ Bah! _ ”    
  
Ordan laughed as Kuirk threw his hands in the air, before turning his attention to something off to the side of the other three. The Beast shifted slightly, squeezing one eye shut in a subtle grimace.    
  
“Listen, kid, it’s all part of the job. You don’t get a title like  _ Beast of Bones _ without getting a few scratches!” 

Cue Sigha mumbling  _ ”Gettin’ a few scratches, my ass!” _ behind the girl, his arms crossed over

his chest. Ordan shot him a look, as if to say  _ ’knock it off’ _ . 

Ophelia was still fixated on him in concern. "It just... looks pretty bad, that's all," she muttered, more subdued. The young Corpus thought a moment, then glanced between the three men - Ordan, Sigha, and Kurik. "Can I sit in here a while? I'll behave, I swear," she promised, then tacked on a second promise to Sigha. " _ And _ I'll leave in time to get to the rest of my classes."

The three men were taken back slightly when the girl spoke again, her tone suddenly shifted. Sigha looked up at Ordan, who looked to Kuirk. Kuirk glanced at them both, before throwing his arms up in the air for a second time, 

“ _ Fine! _ But you not staying here! Other patients trying to  _ sleep! _ ”

Kurik's accent... it threw Ophelia for a loop. She hadn't heard one like it before. So he wasn't Corpus, and clearly not Orokin... Maybe he was a member of Ordan's clan, and he just hadn't adjusted to the language? Or... there was always the other possibility. The other main spoken language in the System was Grineer. She made a mental note to ask where exactly this healer was from.

She looked at Kurik, face apprehensive at the thought of leaving Ordan. Another glance back at her mercenary friend, before she slowly nodded. "Okay... yeah. I'll go back in there, I guess."

Kurik tilted his head slightly, his face changing from slight annoyance to confusion. He looked the girl over, before shaking his head,

“No, no, you misunderstand Kurik.” He spoke, before motioning Ordan down from the table, “Is done now. You all leave.” A pause, “I am meaning... Work is done. Okay now.” 

"Oh! Right," Ophelia understood, brightening slightly once she realized Ordan was coming with her after all. "In that case, thank you, Kurik," she tacked onto the previous thanks. "I'll keep an eye on him for you," she volunteered with a little grin.

Kurik gave the girl a nod, before turning back to his work. He was hunched slightly, and much smaller than Ordan. The man didn’t really look like a Mercenary at all. He looked rather sickly, actually. Perhaps that was why he was a Healer, and not a Fighter.

Ordan stood, but not without taking an offered hand from the Healer. Kurik may have seemed a little prickly, but the man cared for the mercenaries a great deal. He only let go of the wounded man’s hand when he insisted he was alright, and even then he was hesitant.    
  
“ _ Ordan _ . No more show off!”    
  
“Alright, alright, I’ll be more careful.” Ordan laughed, patting the smaller man on the back, “You take it easy, Buddy.”

With that, Ordan approached Sigha, and the young Corpus girl.

“Are you  _ sure _ you don’t need to rest? I can come back later."

“Rest? Please.” A smirk, “Come, let’s take our leave.”

" _ Well  _ then. You're comin' with us," she finally told Ordan, that old hint of sass returning. The girl grabbed onto his hand instead now, tugging him forwards a little bit, as if leading him on. She was excited to talk to him again, after all. But still, she took her walk slowly. No need to rush an injured man. 

“Oh, I am, am I?” Ordan smirked at this, glad to see the kid’s attitude rising back to the surface. He was beginning to think she was going to  _ cry _ or something!  As he was tugged, the man did his best to keep up, chuckling slightly. “Easy, Kid!”

"What, you gonna let a little Corpus like me bully you around?" she questioned, with a laugh. "That'd be a sight, wouldn't it?" Nevertheless, she did ease up. Whatever her attitude, it genuinely seemed to matter to her what Ordan had to say.

"I don't know, you look pretty strong!" Ordan feigned uncertainty.

Sigha lead the two back into the main Barracks, and over to Ordan’s bunk. The same bunk that Ophelia had hidden under during her first encounter with the Beast.    
  
Ophelia sat gingerly on the edge of the bunk once Ordan had laid himself down, since she didn't have a chair at the moment. She left him plenty of room to recline. The situation reminded her of the last time she was here. Only now, it was in broad daylight.

As Ophelia was careful not to overcrowd Ordan on the bunk, Sigha flopped over onto his back, as well, allowing his legs to hang over the end. Laying halfway down the cot, he was at about hip-level to the Beast. Ordan didn't seem fazed by this at all, and even reached down to pat the man's head in a teasing manner, causing Sigha to look up at him and swat him away. 

"Knock it off, Ordan!"   
  
"Quit hogging my bunk, and maybe I will!" He retorted, garnering only a hearty laugh from the other.

Ophelia couldn't help but burst into a fit of giggles at how the two men acted towards each other. They reminded her of brothers - or what she imagined brothers to be like, seeing as she was an only child. It only made her want to be in their company more.

“Don’t mind him,” Ordan spoke as he eased himself back, placing his hands behind his head. “Kurik, I mean. He’s just a little nervous around new people. Guy wouldn’t hurt a fly. Not a mean bone in his body.”

"Yeah... about Kurik," she asked as she calmed, resting her chin on a hand. "What's the story there? He seems pretty... different from the rest of you," Ophelia observed. "I haven't heard an accent like his either. Where's he from, if not from- well, wherever you guys are from?"   
  
The two men's attention turned to the girl as she spoke. So, she had noticed. Of course, it wasn't difficult to see that the Healer wasn't of their kin. He was small, rather sickly, and definitely not built to fight. He had piercing yellow eyes, and he looked much older physically than he should have. Sigha and Ordan exchanged a glance at each other, before Ordan turned towards the girl.    
  
"Well, Kiddo... That's because he  _ is _ a bit different than the rest of us," he explained, "Kurik is  _ Grineer _ \-- the only Grineer amongst us, actually."   
  
"Yep. Good 'ole Kurik is one of a kind." Sigha added, "Hard-workin’ little guy. But I mean, what else do you expect from a Grineer?"    
  
Ordan nudged the other with his leg, before continuing,   
  
"Kurik is my personal Healer. He's one of our best, and  _ yes _ , our hardest working."   
  
Her eyes widened. "So he  _ is _ Grineer? I mean I thought maybe but -  _ wow _ ," she awed. She'd clearly never met any Grineer before. It was obvious to both men that she hadn’t. They exchanged another quick glance at one another. The kid really was just that sheltered. 

"But... Grineer are mostly builders, aren't they? How did he come here to be your healer?" she asked Ordan, head tilting to the side in curiosity.

“Well...” Ordan began, shifting a little to make himself more comfortable. He purposely bumped Sigha, who cursed and shoved his leg a bit, earning a laugh from the other. 

“I was assigned a mission on Ceres— pretty straight forwards, someone there the Orokin wasn’t fond of, get in, get out. When I arrived, I nearly walked right into a group of Grineer working on building a large structure,” Ordan shook his head, “I saw one of the supports give way, and the entire thing came down on top of about a dozen builders. All of them,  _ gone  _ in a split second.”    
  
Ordan paused, looking up at the ceiling. Sigha opened his mouth to say something, only for Ordan to continue,   
  
“I thought they were all dead, until I heard someone calling. I’ll always know how to say  _ ’help’ _ in Grineer.” A troubled expression passed the man’s face at the thought, “Poor guy got himself trapped under the rubble. He was the only one still alive, and no one else around for miles. I ended up postponing that assignment.” 

She listened to the story closely, amazed by what she heard. Ordan Karris, delaying completing an assignment to help a wounded Grineer? "And then you brought him back here to live with the rest of you?" Ophelia finished for him, guessing.

“That’s right.” Ordan nodded, “He was free to leave once he was healed, but he didn’t want to. After I started teaching him how to speak the Golden Tongue, he told me he wanted to stay here with us, to repay us. I’ve told him countless times he doesn’t have to, but he’s adamant.” 

“I think he stayed here because I’m so  _ good lookin’! _ ” Sigha chimed in, looking up at Ordan with a big smile.   
  
“Oh,  _ yes! _ I’m sure that was it, all along.” 

“You shoulda seen it, he brought the guy back here all  _ mangled _ and  _ twisted up _ without even a warnin’! It was  _ gruesome _ , Kid, I’ll tell ya-“    
  
Sigha was cut off as Ordan knee’d him in the side of the head, his expression stern. 

The girl gave a warm smile at the mercenary. "Sounds like he was lucky you were there."

“Kurik was...  _ Lucky _ , to survive. Let’s leave it at that.” Ordan chose his words carefully. “I suppose you could say he was lucky. I mean, if you call living in a Barracks full of Mercenaries lucky.” He smirked, chuckling more to himself, “He’s not like anyone else around here, that’s for sure. Wouldn’t hurt a fly. Stern, though, no funny business. At least, he is with me. I think he’s just gotten sick of patching me up.” Another laugh, “He’s still learning the language, so he comes off a lot colder than he really is. He’s... Ah, I’m rambling.”    
  
Ordan thought pretty highly of their little Grineer friend. The man had refused to leave them, insisting he needed to repay some debt. However, Ordan couldn’t help but feel that the ‘debt’ he needed to repay was nothing more than a ruse, a way that he could justify staying with the mercenaries. He was a skilled Healer, one of their best. The others hadn’t been so sure about him at first, but they had eventually come around.   
  
“He’s got two sick prosthetics, kinda like mine!” The black-haired mercenary exclaimed, before sticking his faux limb up in the air and tugging down his pant leg to expose it, only to receive a second knee to the head.   
  
When Sigha tried to interject yet again, she giggled. "Oh, let him live," she asked Ordan, playfully, before leaning over to get a better angle to talk to Sigha. "It  _ is _ pretty sick, I'll give you that. You'll have to tell me  _ that _ story sometime too," she requested. "You know, if Ordan here ever lets you."   
  
Sigha’s face lit up in a more genuine smile as Ophelia spoke of his prosthetic. He admired it, flexing his leg up and down,    
  
“Isn’t it?! Customized it myself. ‘Ole Bonesy told me it was sick, too. Didn’t’cha, Karris?” He looked, upside down, at Ordan. Who promptly ignored him. 

" **_Bonesy?_ ** " Ophelia burst out into a fit of laughter immediately upon hearing that, a hysterical fit so hard she doubled over, arms wrapped around her stomach. She laughed until she started making little snorting noises, at which point she clasped a hand over her mouth to stifle them, even as she tried to catch her breath and calm down.

Sigha smirked, and started to laugh along when the girl began snorting. He was used to picking on his Mercenary buddies, who would usually groan or punch him. He was  _ not _ expecting this reaction. Ordan  _ did _ groan, placing a hand over his face.

“Remind me again, Sigha,  _ why _ I am friends with you?”    
  
“Because I’m  _ strong, funny, good-lookin’ _ ,” the other started, counting on his fingers, “Oh! And not to mention  _ humble _ !” 

"He - he sounds great," she commented, as she caught her breath finally, still giggling. "Kurik. And he speaks the Golden Tongue very well for someone who just recently learned. I'll have to talk to him more. When he's not working," she thought aloud. Maybe she would make friends with this Grineer healer, and right on the heels of getting some mercenary friends, too. Not bad for a high born Corpus girl!

“He is,” Ordan replied to the girl, “And you know, I think he’d like that. I’d encourage you to, if you’re planning on hanging around here more often, which, if I can guess, you will be.” He smirked.

"Oh trust me. I will be hanging around. It's like I told you before, you can't get rid of me  _ that _ easily," the girl informed Ordan, with a little sideways grin. "So yeah, one of these days, I'll pay Kurik a visit.  _ If _ you're ever lucky enough for me to let the two of you have some peace." The grin widened, her nose crinkling along with it.

She paused, as a thought occurred to her. She’d never actually asked if she could use his name, and he hadn’t really given it to her. Not technically. "I...  _ can _ call you Ordan now, right?" she ventured, just in case she'd overstepped her bounds.

The brown-haired Mercenary quirked a brow at the girl’s question, before sitting up a bit, his expression completely set. “No.” He said, his voice deadpan. The man paused, letting that sink in, before continuing, 

“You must  _ always _ refer to me as  _ The Great and Mighty Ordan _ at  _ all times _ . The whole title. No excuses, no shortcuts.”   
  
For only a moment, as Ordan grew serious, Ophelia faltered. But a grin cracked her face again once she realized he was messing with her. "Oh, very well then,  _ Great and Mighty Ordan _ ," she said, really laying it on thick. The girl even tacked on a mocking, sweeping bow. " _ Please _ forgive me, as I am but a common Corpus. I shall not make such mistakes again," she teased, still unable to hide her grin even as her voice emphasized her false reverence. His smirk only grew as Ophelia began playing along with his quip. He made a ‘hmm’ sound, as if he was thinking,   
  
“I don’t know, Kid... Can I  _ ever _ truly forgive such a  _ crime? _ ”

Ophelia pretended to gasp, clasping her hands together in a pleading gesture in front of her and giving him her best and saddest pout. "Oh,  _ please _ do forgive me, Great and Mighty Ordan. I swear from this day on I will take care to address you with the respect you deserve," she begged, in as sweet a tone as she could muster. Just to drive her point home, she leaned towards the mercenary, batting her eyes at him. " _ Pleeeaaasse? _ "

Ordan crossed his arms over his chest, still laying on his back. He pretended to think on this a while, 

“And  _ what _ makes you think you’re  _ deserving _ of my forgiveness?”   
  
“ _ Ooooo _ , you’ve done it now!” Sigha added, flipping over onto his stomach.

Yet another gasp from the girl echoed at this, more offended than the first. "Am I not worthy? Oh, the  _ shame! However _ shall I face another day knowing this?!" With a massive sigh, the girl flopped back on the bunk as well, arm draping over her eyes as she did. Sigha didn’t even move when the girl laid back, allowing her to lay right on top of him, and over Ordan’s legs. The Beast quirked a brow, a smirk sneaking onto his features.

“What can you give me, Corpus?  _ SURELY _ you must have  _ something _ of value for me?” The mercenary asked, really playing the entire thing up, “My forgiveness doesn’t come cheap. You should know this.”   
  
"But of course I will pay," Ophelia continued on dramatically, the hand switching to rest daintily on her chest as she leaned up again. "Name your price, o  _ Great and Mighty Ordan _ , and I shall pay it. Whatever you require for me to earn forgiveness. No price is too steep."   
  
“A  _ feast! _ ” Sigha exclaimed suddenly, “No...  _ TWO feasts! _ ”   
  
Ordan, breaking character, shifted himself up onto his arms, looking over at his friend in amusement,    
  
“ _ Why _ do you need  _ two _ feasts?”   
  
“ _ Because! _ What if you don’t get to try everythin’ the first time?” Sigha explained, “Besides, if you’re goin’ to ask for a feast, you  _ might as well _ ask for two. Three would be  _ ideal _ , but you don’t want to be too greedy.”    
  
“ _ Unbelievable. _ ”

The girl broke her charade then as well, breaking into a fit of giggles at Sigha's request. "I'm  _ twelve _ , I can't cook. I can always try to learn, but that's not going to solve the issue anytime soon," she told Sigha, with an apologetic little smile appearing.

“Damn.” Sigha drooped, “I was really lookin’ forward to that feast.” 

Ordan’s knee yet again made contact with the other, who simply laughed and rubbed his arm.   
  
"Teeellll you what. Until you decide what  _ is _ an acceptable price for forgiveness, I can offer you an apology hug to redeem at the time of your choosing," Ophelia bargained, crossing one leg over the other as she craned her neck to look at the two of them. "It's a good offer. I've been told I'm an excellent hugger." Then, a sideways glance at Sigha. "I'll even throw in a free hug for you, how about that?"   
  
“I accept your offer,” The Beast smirked, before sitting himself up enough to hold out a hand, “Deal?”    
  
"Deal," Ophelia asserted, beaming at him as she extended her own hand to give it a shake. When she did, she also gave a nod of her head. "You are now each entitled to one hug."

“ _ Hell yeah _ .” Sigha whispered, pumping a fist in the air. 

“I’ll definitely be counting on it.” Ordan said with a wink, before laying himself back down, giving a huff.

The girl was being mindful of the time, and even though she didn't want to leave the two just yet, she knew her next class was due to start soon. If she wanted to make it back, she needed to be on her way. "Hey... Sigha... about that whole going back for the rest of my classes thing... that flexible at all?" she asked hopefully. "It's a way better time over here than it is in there."

Sigha sat upright, stretching his arms up behind his head. His back cracked, and he let out a satisfied breath.    
  
“ _ Phew! _ Sorry, Kiddo, that’s a  _ negative! _ Ordan and I are grown, and we already went through  _ our _ trainin’, so  _ we _ get to sluff off.  _ You _ , on the other hand, need to go back to classes and get your education!”    
  
Ordan gave a short breath through his nose, a smirk on his face. It was amusing to hear one of his own men, who  _ didn’t even go to school _ , lecture the girl about the importance of staying in class. 

"Yeah... I guess," Ophelia grumbled a little, letting out a huff as she sat up fully on the bunk edge once more. "Even if I don't really want this particular education." With a shrug, she stood by Ordan's bunk, glancing back at the two still lying there. "Fineee, I'll go back and be a good girl. Just for  _ you _ , Sigha."

“Besides,” Sigha continued, before patting Ordan’s leg, “ _Bonesy_ here needs to take it easy for a few days.”   
  
“I swear on the stars, Sigha, I **_will_** murder you.”  
  
A stifled laugh - hand over her mouth yet again - at the reuse of "Bonesy" preceded her next words. "Don't kill him, I'm starting to like him," she requested, her voice uneven from her restrained laughter. 

“ _ Starting to? _ ”

"Starting to, a lot, same difference," she teased, throwing a wink Sigha's way.

Sigha absolutely beamed at this, his smile so wide that it forced his eyes closed. Ordan couldn’t help but smirk— he knew there was a reason this was his best friend.

“ _ Fine _ .” Ordan feigned annoyance, “I suppose I’ll hold off for a  _ while _ longer.” A slight smile broke through.

"And besides, he has a point. I don't want you getting hurt any more than you have to," she told Ordan, arms crossing as she seemed more serious about this. The sobered up little Corpus did her best to give the mercenary a stern face. "You have a promise to keep. And I can wait to come back until you're better if you need."

Carefully, the wounded Mercenary eased himself back down with a slight groan, and a huff. He gave a slight chuckle, waving a hand at the girl,    
  
“You act as though I got my  _ arm cut off _ , or something!” He mused, “I’m very hardly  _ ‘hurt’ _ , and I don’t need  _ rest _ .”    
  
Taking a peek up at the girl, he cracked a smile,    
  
“But I  _ suppose _ I  _ do _ have a promise to uphold, don’t I?” 

She gave another look at Ordan, satisfied with this answer, though she still didn't uncross her arms. "Yes, you do. And I'll hold you to it," she informed him, a slight smile of her own creeping back onto her face.

While she had meant what she said about letting him rest, she doubted she could stay away for that long. Still, she had a point to make, and she was making it. Even if her own enthusiasm got in the way moments later.   
  
"Actually... when  _ can _ I come back?"   
  
“You can come back whenever you want, Kiddo!” Sigha chimed in, “Just, y’know, don’t be skippin’ classes! You got it?”    
  
“If you come here and we’re not around, just ask for ‘ole Ordan or  _ me! _ ”   
  
That smile of hers grew when Sigha gave her the freedom to come back at any time. "In that case, I'll try and sneak back over here  _ after _ classes tomorrow. As long as I'm not too late getting back, nobody will suspect anything."   
  
The Corpus girl nodded to them both. "Sigha or Ordan. Got it." She pivoted, starting to walk away, before stopping. "Oh, excuse me -  _ Great and Mighty Ordan _ ," she amended, doing a curtsy before throwing a fully-fledged grin their way. With a little wave, she was soon off.   
  
She still couldn't believe it, even as she walked from the barracks. The man she was fast becoming friends with was Ordan Karris. Ordan  _ fucking _ Karris!   
  
Suddenly, her life seemed significantly less dull.

**Author's Note:**

> [Chapter One Footnotes]
> 
> Kpaeye po top - Please do not
> 
> Ypay pkete - Stay there
> 
> Yose oup sy ykipp - Come out my child
> 
> Keek pookitj - Keep looking
> 
> Jote. Ip'y yate - Gone. It's safe
> 
> You yattop kipp se - You cannot kill me
> 
> Yjeep ktotip - Sweet profit
> 
> Pkatk you - Thank you
> 
> You'te jepyose - You're welcome
> 
> Tety joop - Very good


End file.
